White Wedding
by Purple Mongoose
Summary: A messed-up fanfic in which Dib has homicidal thoughts at Gaz's wedding. [Song (c) Billy Idol.] [Complete]


White Wedding  
*  
  
It was a beautiful church without decorations and, quite simply, breathtaking with them. The varnished mahogany pews shimmered under the dim overhead light, and the guests seated in the pews, on the soft cushions, whispered among themselves, across the aisles; sunlight streaming through the delicate stainglass windows depicting the life of Christ fell on the guests, painting their faces and bodies shades of red, blue, and yellow, among many. The arched ceiling was plain, while the lovely glass chandeliers dangling from it were decorated with soft bunches of lilies tied with light green bows to the arms. White streamers laced about the pews, a light green bow on each end of a pew. One side of the church was somewhat filled with men and women; the other nearly burst with the amount of beings packed in it: male and female humanoids with green skin and bubbly eyes of varying colors, a pair of antennae sprouting from each head.  
  
He hated it.  
  
He refused to sit in the pews, alongside the humans or the Irkens, so he stood, alone, in a shadowed corner, leaning against the wall. By the altar, he could see the groom nervously rocking back and forth on his heels, looking decidedly uncomfortable in his tuxedo. Bastard. God, how he hated the haughty alien! This whole ceremony, this wedding...it was like a smug slap in his face, the fact that his hated enemy would marry his sister. They weren't supposed to fall in love, the alien and his sister!  
  
/hey little sister what have you done  
hey little sister who's the only one  
hey little sister who's your superman  
hey little sister who's the one you want  
hey little sister shotgun!/  
  
The gun's weight pressed snugly against his thigh, the metal smooth and warm, hidden by the deep folds of his trenchcoat. As much as he wanted to kill the bastard right then, right there, he wouldn't, couldn't do it. He'd lost his sister's heart to him; he didn't want her unconditional hate in return. Still, the gun pushed against him, itched in the back of his mind, tugged temptingly at his heart...it would be so easy to just lift it and hug the trigger...  
  
Dib pulled his glasses off with trembling hands, fingers quivering abrely controlled hatred as he wiped at the impeccable surfaces of the lenses with his trenchcoat, breathing thick and angry. There wasn't even any possibility for future satisfaction in telling her what her husband-to-be was: she'd known for years, had told him so, but didn't care.  
  
/it's a nice day to start again  
it's a nice day for a white wedding  
it's a nice day to start again/  
  
For a moment, he indulged in a fantasy of lifting his revolver and firing the shot he so wanted to send Zim's way. The alien would bleed, some color that wasn't human, and he would fall slowly to the ground, dead and sightless, head covered in sickly wetness. To hell with dissection, with an autopsy, he wanted death to take the Irken in its cold, heartless grip.  
  
He had wanted that for a year now, since Gaz had quietly confessed that she and Zim were engaged.  
  
"I love him," she had whispered across the table to Dib and their father. She had looked straight at Dib then, locking brown eyes with brown eyes. "I know you and I have never been close, but I would...I would appreciate it if you could make it to our wedding."  
  
He opened his eyes and swallowed, a little surprised to find blood in his spit. Had he bitten his tongue?  
  
/hey little sister what have you done  
hey little sister who's the only one  
i've been away for so long (so long)  
i've been away for so long (so long)  
i let you go for so long/  
  
He knew now that he had foolishly assumed he would have forever to get to know his sister, to let her know how much he cared about her even if they always fought. But then, he had never expected this to happen.  
  
His fingers itched to close around Zim's neck, slowly pushing his disgusting green windpipe until it collapsed and the asshole collapsed as well, blood red eyes glazed over and lifeless...  
  
Dib had only been away for a year before Gaz asked him to come home, that she had something she needed to tell him. He remembered that she could barely tolerate Zim when he left, could remember how hostilely cold she still was, and he had felt no premonitions, no fear. On the plane, leaving for the supposedly cursed ruins found in South America, he had promised that, when he returned, he would mend whatever lay between his sister and he.  
  
Oh, he wanted to kill Zim, see his smug, arrogant foe, bleeding at the wedding altar, as he was some gruesome sacrifice to God.  
  
It would be so nice, so very pleasing, to eradicate the being who had taken his sister's love before he himself ever had the truest chance to win some part of it. So nice if Gaz would never love Zim the way Dib could tell Zim loved her.  
  
So nice to kill Zim right now, with a simple bullet to the head, setting his lifeblood free to spill so wonderfully all over that nauseatingly perfect tuxedo, staining the black and the white darkly.   
  
But just for Gaz, he wouldn't do it. For Gaz, he would let Zim live.  
  
/it's a nice to start again (come on)  
it's a nice day for a white wedding  
it's a nice day to start again./  
  
It was the most humiliating defeat in the world, to know Zim would have all of Gaz, all of her love, her soul, her affections, and...and...it wasn't goddamn fair!  
  
He wanted part of her love, her affection, all the kindness she had refused to share as a child.  
  
Dib heard the first strains of the pianist gently playing the wedding march, and his stomach clenched; he could feel his hand slide to the gun. He couldn't...but, oh, wouldn't it be so easy?  
  
And then, shyly, Gaz Membrane stepped through the grand doors, dressed in a simple white gown with green satin trimmins and an airy, shimmering veil of white lace that framed her pale, pretty face. He had never seen her look innocent before, and that, that simple little thing, hurt him the most. There was a painful, choking lump in his throat and his his hand, nearly grasping the suddenly cold gun, fell limp, falling away from it.  
  
"I'm sorry I can't stay," he murmured softly, voice cracking as he talked to himself and to her at once, "but it doesn't mean I don't love you, little sister."  
  
/take me back home  
there is nothin' fair in this world  
there is nothin' safe in this world  
and there's nothing sure in this world  
and there's nothing pure in this world  
look for something left in this world  
start again  
come on/  
  
Dib slipped out through one of the side exits, and became a shadow in the happy, contented world outside, his back to the beautiful, hateful church.  
  
/it's a nice day for a white wedding  
it's a nice day to start again.  
it's a nice day for a white wedding  
it's a nice day to start again./  
  
  
  
END  
  
  
Notes: I have mixed feelings about how this turned out; on one hand, I think it came out rather well, and it gives of a creepy air (to me, at least). On the other hand, I feel it didn't come out well at all and I'm a bit iffy over whether the ending was good or not. Personally, I think Dib was a bit OOC, among other thing. I might redo this come summer; what do you think? Also, I don't know if anybody got a suspicion that this was almost incestuous. It isn't supposed to be incest, but I guess it depends on how you interpret it, no? The church described in the beginning was a poor attempt at creating a written picture of the one my grandparents attend in Collins, Mississippi.  
  
Pleave leave a comment - preferably not a flame. 


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